


“Just get in here!”

by LulaIsAKitten



Series: First Kisses [26]
Category: Cormoran Strike Series - Robert Galbraith
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-12
Updated: 2018-07-12
Packaged: 2019-06-09 07:31:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15262473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LulaIsAKitten/pseuds/LulaIsAKitten
Summary: Continuing the series of shorts of possible first kisses between these two. Got a few ideas. Feel free to submit prompts for anything you’d like to see in the comments below or over on Tumblr at lulacat3.





	“Just get in here!”

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hobbeshalftail3469](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hobbeshalftail3469/gifts).



> A gift for hobbeshalftail3469, in memory of a certain other cupboard in Paris ;)

 

“We have to find the right office, and fast,” Strike murmured in her ear as they hurried down the corridor. “I don’t think we’ll be missed from the party, but security patrols regularly.”

Robin glanced down at herself. “We’re not much of a pair for running, between your leg and this dress,” she said. She hadn’t been able to resist wearing the green dress. She was possibly a little overdressed for the party, but she had longed to wear it for years, and with Matthew out of the picture she finally could. She had noticed the look on Strike’s face when she slid into the taxi next to him, the way he pulled his gaze from her and flushed slightly. He looked gorgeous in his Italian suit.

They had one shot at finding the right office and slipping in. Strike had been watching the patterns of the security guards carefully all evening as they patrolled the corridors.

Robin tried the first door. Locked. Strike was trying the next. The corridor was dimly lit, only security lighting on, so that it got darker as they moved away from the party. They rounded a corner and started down the next stretch.

Torchlight flashed across the end of the corridor. Someone was approaching the far corner. “Cormoran,” breathed Robin, grabbing his arm.

“Fuck,” Strike said. “They’ve turned back.”

Robin tried the nearest door. Also locked. Strike grabbed the next and miraculously it opened. “In here,” he hissed, and dived in.

Robin stepped across to the door and pulled up in horror. This wasn’t an office, it was a cleaners’ cupboard, and it was tiny. Barely enough room for the bucket and mop that stood in it and the few shelves of cleaning equipment.

“We won’t both fit!” she said, backing away. She could hear voices now.

“Just get in here!” Strike hissed, grabbing her arm and hauling her in. He pulled the door closed behind her with a quiet click and they were plunged into darkness.

“Cormoran...”

“Shh.”

They stood, listening. Voices approached, moved on a little way, came back. Robin hardly dared breathe. She was horribly conscious of how close she was standing to Strike in the tiny cupboard. He had let go of her arm and was leaning away from her a little, half turned with one arm braced against the wall behind him. She wondered why he didn’t just step away, and then remembered the mop and bucket that were occupying that area of floor.

They listened. The guards were discussing something. They came back a little closer, and Strike and Robin could hear the conversation. The gist of it was that the office that Corporate Guy had left unlocked for them had been discovered - one of the guards had tried the door because a lamp had been left on. So it was decided that one would stay to guard the office while the other would fetch the master key.

Robin closed her eyes in horror. This was going to take several minutes at least. She opened her eyes again but it made no difference in the darkness. At least she was stood relatively comfortably. She couldn’t leave Strike trying to stand twisted in the little space he’d allowed himself.

“Cormoran,” she breathed, very quietly.

“Shh,” he said again, almost inaudible.

She reached out blindly in the dark, found his free arm and pulled him gently to bring his ear down to her mouth. She could smell his aftershave, spicy and musky. Her heart fluttered. God, it’s warm in here, she thought.

“You can’t stand twisted like that,” she breathed into his ear, and couldn’t help but notice his shudder. She chose to ignore it. “Your knee.”

Strike turned his head to hers to reply, a barely audible whisper in her ear. His breath against her cheek set every nerve in her spine alight. “What else do you suggest?” he asked softly. “This is already awkward enough.”

“We’re professional,” she replied, low. “Just stand up, lean on this wall.” She was backed right up to her wall, and gently pulled him to face her. She knew he’d stand in agony for as long as it took, and she couldn’t bear the thought. This was going to be bad enough already, without him injuring his knee over it and possibly his back too.

Stood upright, facing her, he was practically pressed against her in the tiny space that was left, but she could sense that he was standing a little easier. “Lean on the wall, come on,” she breathed. “Rest your knee if you can.” She pulled gently on his arm again, felt his hesitation, his reluctance, but then he acquiesced and rested his hands on the wall behind her. She was hemmed in now, his hands either side of her head, but she decided to just pretend she wasn’t. She couldn’t see anything anyway. I’ll just shut my eyes and pretend he’s six feet away, she thought.

That was much easier to decide than to do. Every nerve ending in her body was aware of his closeness. The scent of his aftershave. His thighs almost touching hers. She was sure that if she took a deep enough breath, her breasts would be against his chest. She tried to shrink back but she was already pressed back against the wall. She could feel his breath against her cheek, careful and even. He seemed so calm, and she was furious with herself for not being able to emulate his poise and control. She felt hot and flustered. Get a grip, she told herself.

There was a spell of quiet. Robin began to wonder if the security guard had gone, but then she heard a cough, a stamp of feet. He was still there.

She felt hotter and hotter, practically pressed up against her boss in the tiny cupboard. A bead of sweat trickled down between her breasts. She was so thankful that it was dark and Strike couldn’t see the effect he was having on her. She could still smell his aftershave, so close. Her arms fidgeted a little at her sides, and she brought a hand up to push a damp strand of hair from her face. Her arm brushed against his and she felt him almost flinch away from her. She paused, hoping she wasn’t making him feel uncomfortable. She breathed slowly, trying to slow her fluttering pulse.

Her legs were tired. She shifted position, trying to redistribute her weight a little, and her thighs brushed against his. His breath hitched, and suddenly she realised. He was no more calm and in control than she was. This was mutual. No wonder the heat was rising so rapidly in the small space.

Robin had never been in the vicinity of Strike without his piercing eyes seeing through her. The darkness made her feel safer somehow, bolder. All at once she longed to feel his body against hers. Almost without realising, she pressed her thighs to his again, and her reward was a gasp from him, hurriedly muffled.

“Robin...” he breathed a warning, but the sound of her name on his lips had the opposite effect than he’d intended.

“Cormoran,” she breathed back, and heard the shaky breath he drew at the sound of it, felt him sway towards her as though unable to stop himself. All at once those thighs were against hers again and his chest was closer too, so that as her breath caught, her breasts pressed against him, the silk of her dress sliding against his suit jacket. Desire was melting her from the inside out.

Her arms crept up from their position at her sides, her hands resting on his waist. She’d never been so bold as to touch him like this, but she wanted him closer. She pulled gently, and he swayed right into her, his whole body pressed against her now, giving in to desire. His head was so close to hers, she could hear the unsteadiness of his breathing. His stomach felt soft against her, but his chest wall was hard against her breasts.

Footsteps and low voices in the hallway behind the door caused them both to freeze still. Robin leaned back on the wall, Strike’s whole body pressed to hers now, feeling so right. They slotted together perfectly, she thought distantly, ears straining to hear what was going on in the hallway. She could still feel his breath against her cheek, his face inches from her lips, and she longed to kiss him.

The second guard had brought the key. They checked the office over, locked it and stood for a moment, chatting, then resumed their patrol, voices fading down the corridor.

There was an awkward silence in the cupboard. Robin held still, not wanting to break the spell. His body felt so good against hers.

Eventually, reluctantly, Strike began to ease his body off hers. She whimpered at the loss of him and her hands tightened on his waist again. “No...” she begged softly, pulling him back to her.

“Robin...” Strike began. He was going to break the spell, this moment would be gone, and all that could follow would be awkwardness and embarrassment.

Her hands slid up to his face and she pulled him down to kiss him.

She felt his reluctance, knew he was thinking, curse him for always _thinking_. She opened her mouth to him, desire still coursing through her, her tongue seeking his. Trying to say without words that whatever this was they had started, whatever weirdness, even if they never mentioned it again, she wanted it.

Finally she felt his acceptance, felt him melt into her. He kissed her back, his tongue joining hers, and his hips pressed into her body again. He tasted amazing, hot and musky, slightly smoky, slightly of champagne from the party. His tongue slid against hers. She curled one arm up around his head and the other slid back down around his waist to pull him closer still.

And now, finally, he touched her. His hands slid from the wall to her shoulders, brushed down the outsides of her arms, raising a trail of goosebumps and shivers in their wake. They settled on her hips, either side of her, his fingers stroking lightly. Then they slid around behind the small of her back, scooping her closer into the kiss.

They kissed for a long minute, desire rising, and then Strike broke off, breathing hard. His hands came up now to cup her face and he leaned his forehead on hers in the darkness that she was suddenly thankful for again, shyness sweeping over her.

“You okay?” he asked softly, and Robin nodded, her forehead still against his.

“Now what?” she whispered.

“Well,” he said. “That office is locked again so we’re going to have to abandon things here and try again another time.”

That wasn’t really what Robin had meant, but she nodded again. Was that it? Back to work mode? She tried not to feel hurt. She had instigated what had happened, he had been reluctant. She couldn’t blame him.

“Okay?” he asked again.

“Yup,” she said, more briskly than she felt, and he cautiously opened the door.

The corridor was empty, and its previous gloom seemed much lighter after the darkness of the cupboard. Strike stepped out. Flushing a little, Robin followed.

They walked in silence down the hall, slipped back unnoticed into the party.

“Let’s go,” Strike said, and she nodded again, her eyes still lowered. She didn’t know quite how she was ever going to meet his gaze.

They moved to the lifts. Strike pressed the button and they stood waiting, awkward.

“Are you ever going to look me in the eye again?” he asked, softly, teasing, and she flushed. “No,” she said in a low voice.

He chuckled. “Then how am I going to gaze into your eyes over dinner one evening?” he asked.

Then her gaze did dart to his, and she saw how fondly he was looking at her, and flushed again, smiling.

“Really?” she asked, unsure.

“Of course!” he said. “God, Robin, did you really think I’d go back to work like nothing happened?”

“I...” It did sound silly when he put it like that. The lift arrived and he pulled her into it. The doors slid closed behind them, and he drew her into his arms.

“This is just the beginning,” he said. “I hope?”

She nodded again, shy, and he kissed her.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Please note I did not snog hobbeshalftail3469 in a cupboard in Paris.


End file.
